Always You
by kathiekay
Summary: A decade after baby Venturi is born, Casey and Derek revisit their pasts. Will their divergent lives finally come back together? Sequel to Crazy Game and Dirty Little Secret, futurefic, Dasey.
1. The Wedding

**A/N: Ooh, did I have a hard time getting this started! I know exactly where I want the story to go and how I want it to end, but getting there without rushing it is the hard part. I hope you enjoy this final fic in this particular story line, and if you're just joining us, it'll help to read _Crazy Game_ and _Dirty Little Secret_ first. Enjoy!**

Casey McDonald stared at the doors of the church from the cool interior of the dark car. Through the tinted windows, she took in every tiny, minute detail: the weathering on the painted wooden doors, the white, gauzy ribbon wound around the handrails, the ruby-red rose petals scattered on the stairs and blowing in the wind. The trees, ancient and gnarled, were adorned with large bows made of soft tulle. Each element etched itself in her mind, preserving itself for all eternity.

She looked at the clock. It was nearly two o'clock in the afternoon, the twentieth of June, two thousand and twenty. According to the swirled script on the ornate, ivory invitations, the matrimonial ceremony was moments away. The mothers would be processing down the aisle in minutes.

She needed to go inside.

Casey waited until the stairs were empty before opening her door. She thanked the driver and exited the car, gathering her silver-blue accoutrements. She took care in her steps, not wanting to trip in her impossibly high heels. Pace by tiny pace, she minced her way to the staircase. She hesitated briefly, letting the warm spring sunshine wash over her. She breathed deeply, savoring the lake-bitten air, and continued her careful hike up the stairs.

She paused at the doors to the sanctuary. She was nervous, breathless, and couldn't help but fiddle with the small, white handkerchief in the palm of her slightly sweaty hand. A million thoughts rushed through her mind, swirling around and making her dizzy. The heady scent of gardenia steeped into her head and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm herself down.

She opened her eyes, taking in the blurry scene through the stained-glass doors of the church. People milled around, making small talk, catching up, reuniting. Casey picked out the people from her past, her classmates from SJS Thompson High School. She picked out the soldiers, dressed in their mess kits; some were also adorned with ceremonial sabres. She idly wondered how her former classmates—many of whom never left London after graduation—were enjoying Kingston, Ontario.

A warm breeze wafted through the outer doors, and Casey closed her eyes. The wind kicked up the ends of her gently curled hair, bringing with it another faint breath of gardenia and jasmine. Casey breathed deeply again, trying—and failing—to calm the butterflies in her stomach. The breeze felt nice against her skin, and she savored the draft of air on her bare shoulders. This was a big day, and nervous energy filled her to the brim, threatening to spill over at a moment's notice.

Casey opened her eyes and glanced around the foyer. _The florist did a good job with the flowers, _she mused, scrutinizing the scene. Heavy mahogany tables positioned on either side of the glass doors held crystal-clear fishbowls filled gardenia, jasmine, lily, and delphinium blossoms floating in water. A small guestbook, long since abandoned by a young, distant cousin, sat on another mahogany table to the left of the sanctuary's entrance.

Casey stared intently into the church and caught sight of the groom. He was breathtakingly, painfully handsome in his wedding garb, and she smiled to herself. Visions of her life danced before her, both her past and her future. Memories flooded her mind: the first time she saw him. Their first date. The years of playfulness and friendship. The times of awkwardness and silence. Living together. Singing together. Cheering him on at hockey games. Some of the same moments that sustained her over the last decade fortified her now, and her smile broadened. They had some good times, some amazing times, and no matter how old they got, no matter where life took them, she would always remember those first tenuous times from their teenage years with happiness.

A light, celebratory tinkling floated through the lobby. The pianist had begun to play the selected preludes, and the white noise of chatter died down as the guests settled into their pews, waiting for the procession in expectation. The small chapel was full, with only a few seats remaining on the groom's side, and a soloist began to sing an aria in Italian. A latecomer breezed in, barely taking notice of Casey as he rushed to find a seat before the blushing bride walked down the aisle.

The bridesmaids, dressed in floor-length, ruby-colored dresses, gathered behind Casey. They flitted about, adjusting each other's midnight-blue sashes and fussing over the bride. One fixed her veil, another fixed her train, still another handed her the bouquet. Through the watery glass, Casey watched as the groomsmen filed onto the altar from a side door, looking slightly uncomfortable in their ceremonial waistcoats and dress pants. They lined up next to the groom and peered down the aisle, waiting expectantly for the bride's attendants. Casey caught sight of the party and felt her heartbeat quicken. This was the moment for which she had been waiting for several long years, and here it was, just moments and steps away. The air rushed out of her lungs forecefully, and she drew in a staggered, excited breath.

Casey flicked a small speck off her dress and smoothed the pale satin down over her body. She threw her shoulders back and gripped her trappings more tightly. _It's time that I got in there, _she thought, smiling as the preludes shifted in time and melody.

The doors to the chapel opened, and Casey's eyes locked with those of a smiling Sam Richards as she stepped into the center aisle.

**A/N: AHHHHHH! I know! Cliffie! **

**Also, thanks for all the feedback on the finaly chapter of _Dirty Little Secret_, if you read it. I know it ended kind of weirdly, but it really needed to in order to play into this fic. Plus, some of the backstory written into this story will explain why it ended the way it did.**

**Like I said before, I'm really having some trouble getting this fic started, so if there's anything that's really off, let me know and I'll take those notes into consideration. Keep watching for the next chapter, coming very soon!  
**


	2. The First Memory

**A/N: Whoo hoo! You guys have no idea how awesome it's been to hear how much you liked the first chapter! Really, it's been tough getting this out--I'm dealing with several different story lines set in different years (as you begin to see in this chapter), and it's hard keeping it all straight. So, again, if you see any inconsistencies, let me know and I'll fix them. Otherwise, sit back and enjoy the new chappie!**

**Disclaimer: I forgot to make this abundantly clear when I started the new fic ... I don't own LwD.  
**

Derek Venturi felt his breath catch in his throat and his heart stop. Standing not 30 meters away from him was his former best friend, his one-time lover, and favorite stepsister, Casey. It had been ten years since they had seen each other, and that decade was extremely kind to her. She looked older, wiser, calmer. Her long, golden-brown hair, curled at the ends, was cut shorter. Her skin, always creamy, now glowed—from what, he wasn't entirely sure. And her figure, shaped into lean, lovely curves by years of dance, looked meticulously maintained. At 29 years old, Casey McDonald was more beautiful than the day he last saw her.

Derek watched Casey take a single, graceful step into the center aisle and closed his eyes. Seeing her, here, like this, made him crazy. He wanted to run to her and hug her. He wanted to yell at her. He wanted to shake her until she came to her senses. He couldn't do that, though, not standing next to Sam. Not standing in front of his former peers and his family. Not at all. He closed that door ten years ago, when she walked out of the door and out of his life.

_And here she is, looking as gorgeous as ever. She's here because of Sam._

The thought pained Derek, as did reflecting on any part of his past that included Casey. He couldn't play poker anymore—he and Casey first admitted that they liked each other over a charged game of poker at the family dining-room table. He avoided hospitals at all costs—he and Casey were mandated to break up in the Recovery Ward after their younger brother's birth. Being in Kingston nearly killed him when he saw the familiar skyline against the stark lake—this was the last place he saw Casey before he left Ontario for good.

Derek opened his eyes and drank her in, the little pieces of her that he didn't quite remember but could never entirely forget: the curve of her slim ankle above her impossibly high heels. The golden skin of her shoulder peeking out from her strapless dress. The crinkle of her eyes as she returned Sam's smile. The rise of her bosom as she inhaled and exhaled.

He closed his eyes again. He couldn't do it. He couldn't watch her glide into that church and down that aisle. Unwillingly, he felt his mind float back to that fateful day in January 2010:

_"So this is it, huh?" Casey asked, her blue eyes brightened by the thin layer of tears threatening to spill over onto her cheeks._

_"Yeah, I guess it is," Derek said roughly. He was trying to hold in his own tears; he couldn't look her in the eyes anymore._

_"Then … I guess I'll go."_

_"Let me help you with your bags."_

_Derek picked up Casey's suitcase, following her out the door. She was pulling a pink rolling suitcase, the same one that she carried onto the airplane last summer. That glorious, painful summer. He had been in Europe, she had been in New York, but they were inexplicably tied together. They didn't realize it at the time, but that absence really did make them stronger. Eventually._

_This absence would not be the same. This separation was not by choice, not in the same way that it had been before. Before, they willingly separated to avoid admitting that they loved each other; now, they were being forced apart by their irate parents, irrational adults who wanted to avoid admitting that Derek and Casey loved each other. _

_This was the last of her things; the boxes and furniture that she could take had already been moved into Adelaide Hall. She was on the other side of campus now, in an all-female residence, with a reserved roommate that had already been forewarned of their family situation. Not their romantic situation or the reason for Casey's relocation in the middle of the school year, just the fact that Casey and Derek were stepsiblings. A fact that would effectively keep them from spending time together romantically in Addy at all._

_They walked to the car in silence, desperately holding onto their last moments of unadulterated, unashamed togetherness. Derek resolutely put Casey's suitcases in the boot of the car, slammed it shut, and pulled her into a hug. They clung to each other, and Derek tried mightily to memorize every curve of her body as it fit against his. The way her hair rustled against the buttons on his shirt. The way her hands cupped his shoulder blades. The camber of her hips as they met her torso. He sighed deeply and pulled her closer. _

_There was a cough behind them. Derek let go, and turned towards the sound._

_"That's enough, Derek. Casey, let's go."_

_George Venturi, Derek's father, climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine. Derek held the passenger door open for Casey, and she slid into the seat next to George, fixating her wet eyes on Derek as he closed the door. George had taken off work under the pretense of helping Casey move; they all knew it was to make sure that she actually left. _

_Derek watched as the car pulled away. Casey stared at him over her left shoulder, silently promising him that she would be back. That she would hold him to his promise to make things work, no matter what._

_And see how that turned out, _Derek thought bitterly, glancing at his family. They were turned toward the back of the church, watching Casey intently as she took another step into the sanctuary. Gavin Venturi, the youngest of the McDonald-Venturi children, bounced excitedly in his seat, and Derek could hear his little brother whispering loudly, "Edwin, Edwin, look, it's Casey!"

"Shh," came Edwin Venturi's hushed reply, "I know. You can talk to her after the wedding, I promise, but we have to be quiet now."

"But Edwin! I wanna talk to her now!"

"Later, Gavin," answered Edwin's fiancée, Katie Collins, soothingly. She smoothed down the boy's dark, messy hair, so similar to Derek's in style and Edwin's in color, and whispered something in his ear. He nodded and grinned widely, then snuggled in close to Katie and wrapped his little arms around her.

Derek returned his gaze to the heart achingly beautiful woman standing in the back of the church. He still hadn't managed to catch her eye; she was still smiling broadly at Sam. Sam nudged Derek with his left elbow and leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Look at Casey, man … she looks more gorgeous than she ever has."

Derek wanted to punch him. _I know, asshole, she looks amazing. I haven't seen her for ten years, and you have to rub this in my face? WHY did you have to ask her? And why do you feel the need to point out to me how beautiful she is? I know it. I remember it. And it's killing me._

Derek clenched his fists and whispered back through gritted teeth, "Yeah, I see it. Aren't you getting married today?"

Sam grinned at his best friend and puffed up with pride. The diffused light coming in from the church's skylight glinted off the shiny medals on his left breast. "Yeah, I am. I can't wait to marry that girl, D."

Derek looked away from Sam and back at Casey, his eyes following her as she skirted the back pew on the groom's side and took a seat, alone.

**A/N: Mwahahahahaha ... another cliffie! So, it's _not_ Casey getting married to Sam, and it's not Derek getting married to Casey, so ... who's Sam marrying? Like I said before, I don't own LwD, but I suppose I technically own Gavin Venturi and Katie Collins. If you'd like to borrow them, please feel free to do so, just give me a little credit if you do. Thanks!**


	3. Eyes Meet

**A/N: Wow, I've been getting some amazing reviews on this story--thanks! As for this chapter, I'm submitting it without giving it my standard 24-hour sink-in period--I did an almost complete rewrite, and I like to let that sit for a little bit and look at it with fresh eyes before turning it over to you. SO, with that being said, glaring errors may be inside; read with caution.**

Casey smoothed her dress underneath her, thankful that she had managed to find an empty seat away from the McDonald-Venturi family. It had been nearly a decade since she had seen or spoken to any of them. Over the years, she had received an occasional email or letter from her mother, Nora McDonald, but the more Casey ignored them, the more seldom they came.

She felt her mother's, her stepfather's, her siblings' and her stepsiblings' eyes on her, but she just looked down and fiddled with her handkerchief in her hands. Although Casey had received an email from Nora about Sam's wedding about eight months ago, she never replied to let her know that she was coming. At the time, she didn't even know if she could afford the trip; after a while, it didn't seem important enough to tell them that she would be in attendance.

_They ruined the best thing I had in my life,_ Casey thought sulkily. _Why should I justify or explain myself to them now?_

Casey felt another pair of eyes on her, a pair of eyes that she knew well. They were chocolate brown with flecks of gold and green, and if she could bring herself to look into them, she might be able to see herself. She couldn't bring herself to do it though; she had already spent too many years trying to stamp out the memories of the two of them together. She still hadn't figured out exactly why they separated, and she often mulled over that one memory:

_"Derek, what are you doing here?" Casey asked in surprise. She knew that he was uncomfortable in her residence; her hallmates threw themselves at him, hoping to get a date with Casey's hot stepbrother. As far as they knew, he was single, and it had become a competition to be the first to hook up with him. The contest had risen to frenzied heights with the pending end of the spring semester, and she knew that he would rather just spend his time anywhere but there._

_"Come in," she said, pushing a box to the side, "but ignore the mess. I'm just trying to get everything ready to go home." She walked into the room, leaving the door open behind her._

_"No, thanks, Casey." Derek stood in the doorway, watching her with guarded eyes._

_Casey turned around and stared at him, mouth agape. "Um … OK … what's going on?" she asked cautiously._

_"Nothing. It's just … I'm leaving, Casey. Thought you might want to know." Derek turned and stalked down the hall, hands clenched into tight fists._

_"Wait—what? Where are you going?" Casey yelped, running out of the room and after him._

_"Vancouver." His voice was clipped as he kept moving down the hallway._

_"What the hell, Derek? Why are you leaving?" she demanded, panic starting to rise in her chest._

_"I have to get away from here, Casey." He stopped, turned around, and stared at her. "Away from you."_

_Casey felt her chest constrict and her lungs fight for air. He had never spoken to her in that manner before, not even when they were brand-new stepsiblings and legitimately fought over everything. The intensity of his tone scared her, and she stammered, "Bu-but … why? What happened? What did I do?"_

_"Everything, Casey!" He spun around and continued his march down the hall. "Everything. And nothing. But I can't stay here anymore. I'm leaving. We both know we're both better off like that anyway."_

_And just like that, he was gone. She had tried to run after him, tried to hold him, but he just shook her off, climbed in the car, and drove off without another word._

_He didn't come back to Queen's in the fall. She looked for him—in the classrooms, at the hockey rink, in the sorority houses, but he was nowhere to be found. After four and a half years of constantly being in Derek's presence, Casey was alone._

Pachelbel's _Canon in D major_ drifted through the church, and the congregation stood. Casey rose with them, distractedly observing how beautiful the bride was. She took graceful, confident steps down the aisle on her father's arm, and as she passed, the attendees repositioned their bodies towards the front of the church. Finally, she arrived at the altar, was handed to Sam, and the wedding party faced the pastor.

Knowing that she wouldn't be caught, Casey finally let herself look at Derek. His beautiful, floppy hair had grown longer, and he wore it neatly gelled for the wedding. He was in a coat and tails, the only member of the party not in the crisp, red dress uniform of the Canadian Armed Forces.

_I wonder where Ralph is,_ Casey thought idly, mentally cataloguing every detail about her former paramour.

Casey struggled to follow the ceremony, standing and sitting at the appropriate moments, but she was entirely absorbed in her own thoughts. Being this close to Derek again, to all these people from her past, had opened her Pandora's box of memories, and she felt lightheaded from the rush. She strived to pay attention, but seemingly seconds later, the couple was kissing, people were clapping, and the congregation stood to watch Samuel and Emma Richards recess from the church to the happy, energetic sounds of _Ode to Joy._

Sam and Emma, arms linked, marched happily down the center aisle. Derek and the maid of honor, arm-in-arm, followed.

Casey stared at the pair, fixing her gaze past the wedded couple. Derek's head was inclined towards the maid of honor's, and she giggled at something that he said. _That bitch. _Derek looked up and glanced around the groom's side. _Oh, please see me._ His eyebrows furrowed as Casey saw him catch his father's eye. _Wait, maybe not. Do I want to go there again?_ He looked away with a look of mild disgust and whispered something to the maid of honor. _Is he explaining how jacked up our family is?_ He looked up. _ Are they together, or is this just a wedding thing? _He looked at Casey. _I know nothing about him anymore. _His eyes locked hers. _Oh, shit._

Casey couldn't breathe. His eyes, those gorgeous, soulful eyes, looked the same as they had ten years ago—and they held the same pain that she saw the day he drove away. The fire they once held was dulled, but it was akin to looking at a wonderful room through a dirty window: despite the film of filth, the glorious splendor was still there.

In that brief glance, she saw everything that she remembered and had always known. She saw the family that they once thought they might have. She saw—no, _felt_—his eternal, selfless love.

She looked away, breaking their stare. _That's not what happened,_ she thought fiercely, _and you can't make it happen now. He left. We ended. That's it. The end._

Derek and his companion had finally made their way to the back of the church; Casey and Derek were standing side-by-side for the first time in ten years. She looked down, feeling his eyes blaze into her scalp, but she was unable to meet his stare. She couldn't take that blast of emotion; she was no longer strong enough for him.

And then he breathed her name. "Casey."

**A/N: Would you laugh if I told you I almost submitted this with the next two (unedited) chapters attached? Oops ... way to spoil things ... **


	4. Leaving Kingston

Derek waited anxiously, hoping that she would say his name. He knew that they were holding up the procession, but he couldn't help himself: he needed to hear her say his name. Just once.

She didn't. She just kept her eyes trained on the ground, gripping a tiny, lacy handkerchief wrapped between her fingers. Her hair fell in her face, and she made no gesture to move the barrier between them.

"Derek."

Derek whipped around to Stacey, the maid of honor, snapping back to reality.

"Derek, we have to go. People are starting to stare," she whispered.

He mechanically finished the walk down the aisle andinto the bright afternoon sunlight. He perfunctorily gathered the guests for the exit of the bride and groom, making sure that the eight-man guard had enough room to draw their sabres. Stacey followed suit with the bridesmaids, lining them up next to the guardsmen and completing the tunnel from the base of the stairs to the waiting limousine. Derek took his place at the door of the luxurious car, ready to open and close it for Sam and his new wife.

While they were waiting, Derek searched the crowd for Casey. He saw his dad and Nora off to the side; they were slightly greyer than he remembered but still a lively and happy couple. He saw Lizzie, alone, standing next to them, her bright blue eyes burning uncomfortable holes in him. He saw Edwin and Katie, holding hands and laughing. He saw Marti and her boyfriend, Liam, standing a little apart from the rest of the family, his arm flung around her shoulders as she snuggled into him. He saw Gavin, bouncing from couple to couple—and Lizzie—with enthusiasm. But he never saw Casey.

Sam and Emma paused at the entrance of the church, and the entire congregation started clapping for the new Lieutenant and Mrs. Samuel Richards. They strode through the sabre arch, buoyant with happiness, and slid inside the limousine as Derek shut the door. Still, no Casey.

With a heavy heart, Derek watched as the car drove away. He was still staring at the road when he felt a light touch on his shoulder. Hopeful, he turned around.

"Derek, we need to get over to the reception." It was Stacey.

Fighting back a sharp-tongued response, he nodded and fished in his pocket for his keys. Stacey slipped her arm through his, latching on to him and pressing her body flush against him. In any other situation, he might have appreciated her obvious intentions; today though, he only wanted to see Casey. Even if she never did call him.

_"Come after me, Casey, come after me," he muttered to himself, glancing in the rearview mirror. Still, she just stood there, complete shock written on her face. _

_"Come on, Case, you have my number. Call me, beg me to come back."_

_He left Kingston, merging onto the highway. She didn't call. He drove through London, not stopping to see his family or his new baby brother, only five months old at the time. She didn't call. He crossed the border between Canada and the United States. She didn't call. _

_"She doesn't care."_

_He had thought that for the last several hours, but saying it out loud solidified it for him. Casey McDonald no longer cared for him. If she did, she would have followed, or called, or _something_. Instead, she let him leave, let him walk out of her life. For good._

_He pulled off the interstate in Kalamazoo, Michigan, and checked into a cheap motel. The receptionist, a girl about his age with badly-bleached hair and long, pink acrylic nails, gave him a once-over and an approving glance until she saw his face._

_"Are you OK?" she asked him gently._

_"Yeah, fine," he grunted at her, taking his hotel key and sliding it into his jacket pocket._

_"Are you sure? You look like someone died."_

_"I'm fine."_

_"OK. But if you're not, or you just want to hang out for a little bit, I get off at 10." She winked at him and slid him a piece of paper. "This is where I'll be if you'd like to join me."_

_He looked at the piece of paper; on it, she had written only a name and a phone number. He looked up at her quizzically._

_"It's my favorite bar. That's my cell number. Call me if you get lost."_

_Derek went to his room and threw his bag on the bed. He flipped open his cell phone. Nothing. No calls, no texts. _

Well, I suppose that's it,_ he thought as he drifted off to sleep._

_When he woke up, he was disoriented. The feel of the bed was different, the air was tangier, and there was a heaviness on his heart that he couldn't quite place. Then he took in the peeling wallpaper and ancient television set and remembered. _Casey.

_He fished around in his pocket, and, finding what he needed, he went to the phone book to look up the address. Although it was an unfamiliar layout, he quickly found what he needed, got directions from the front desk, and hopped into the Prince._

_The bar was crowded in the way that only a true dive could be: clusters of locals gathered around high bar tables, sipping beer out of dark, long-necked bottles. The dance floor was empty, save for several rings of scantily clad girls looking for attention. In the middle of one of those rings was the receptionist._

_Her name was Jennilee. She wore a denim miniskirt, a halter top, and high wedges that laced around her ankles and up her calves. Her hair was severely pulled back into a high bun, giving her face an unnatural tightness. She had a drink in her hand, and she was swiveling her hips to the beat of the music. Then, she saw him. _

_"You came!" she squealed, waving Derek down and pushing her friends to the side. She launched herself into his arms, and he became acutely aware of the padding in her bra._

_"I came," he confirmed with a brief dip of his head, shoving his hands in his pockets._

_"Do you want a drink? Come on, my brother's the bartender, he won't care how old you are."_

_Derek apprehensively followed Jennilee to the sticky bar in the back of the club, trying not the stare at the expanses of flesh that she was displaying. He couldn't help but compare her to Casey, and it was no comparison. But he was here and she was there and she didn't want anything to do with him. He shook his head._

_"What do you want? I'm buying," Jennilee said, turning to Derek with a flirtatious smile._

_"Um, how about a Molson?"_

_Jennilee giggled. "Oh, HONEY. You're not in Canada anymore. Have a Coors Light."_

_Jennilee ordered the longneck and handed it to Derek; he took a gulp and gagged. The light beer was watery, tasteless, but beer was beer, and he was here to forget his problems. He took another gulp._

_"What's this?" he asked in surprise when Jennilee handed him another drink. A shot this time._

_She giggled again. "Oh, you're cute. It's a Blonde-Headed Slut: pineapple juice, peach schnapps, and Grand Marnier. It's kind of my signature drink. You'll like it. Cheers." Jennilee clinked her shot glass against his._

_Derek gulped back his drink and winced. It was too sweet, sickly. But again, alcohol was alcohol, so he swallowed and thanked Jennilee._

_"Oh, no problem. Let's dance!"_

_Jennilee dragged Derek out onto the dance floor and backed into him. She rubbed up against him, clearly hoping to get a reaction. Despite his better judgment, the music and the alcohol and the friction did the trick, and he soon found himself vaguely wanting to take her out of there. She obviously didn't mind; she kept plying him with drinks and running her long, fake nails along his back, his chest, and his thigh._

_Eventually, Jennilee leaned into him and whispered, "Wanna get out of here?"_

No, not really,_ he thought, but he was too far gone. He just nodded and let her lead him off the dance floor. She fished his keys out of his pocket for him, gently scratching the inside of this pocket. She slid into the driver's side of the Prince—_no, not the Prince!—_and revved the engine. _

_She led him to his room and to his bed._

**A/N: Wow ... so Derek has actually left Kingston and is already scamming on a new girl. Or, some new girl is scamming on him, I suppose. Any guesses why? And how the heck did Casey manage to slip out of the crowd at the church?**


	5. RealityCheck

**A/N: Wow ... I thought I uploaded this chapter DAYS ago, and I just realized that it never published. So, for your reading pleasure, you get not one, but TWO new chapters today! Go, read, have fun. If you didn't get a chance to read the intermission before I deleted it, here's a brief overview of what we do know:**

**1. Derek left Casey. We don't know why.  
2. When Derek left, he headed for Vancouver. Why, we don't know, but we can assume to see Sally.  
3. When Derek left, he kind of went off into the deep end in terms of morality.  
4. Casey is having trouble seeing Derek again, presumably because he left her without explanation.  
5. Casey either is short on cash or lives somewhere far enough away that it makes traveling back to Ontario expensive.  
6. Casey is not marrying Sam.****  
7. Derek and Casey obviously both still have feelings for each other, but are having trouble dealing with them because of whatever happened.**

Casey stood outside the doors to the reception hall. She could hear the music and chatter wafting through the doors but she couldn't bring herself to go inside. _He_ was in there. _They_ were in there.

She was on the verge of missing dinner. Under any other circumstance, she probably wouldn't have cared. She did, however, tell Sam that she would be there, and it wasn't in her nature to renege on an old friend, especially one that meant so much to her. Besides, she had yet to meet Emma—she and Sam met long after he and Casey stopped hanging out—and she wanted to meet the woman that Sam had chosen to be his companion throughout life.

_You have to go in there, Casey_, she chided herself. _At least say hello and have a glass of wine. You can leave as soon as dinner is over. You don't have to stay for the dancing. You don't even have to stay for cake._

She pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped inside the banquet hall. The majority of the guests were already seated at large, round tables with pristine white tablecloths and twinkling centerpieces. A few others were collecting last-minute drinks at the bars set up around the dance floor. Casey made her way over to the seating chart to check her table; she wanted to be seated before Sam and Emma made their grand entrance into the hall.

Upon locating her name and table on the chart, she scanned the room to find her place. Her eyes alighted on the table number, and, skirting a cluster of enthusiastic guests, she wove through the tables to Table #2.

There he was. Sitting at Table #2. In the seat next to hers.

_Damn it, Sam, I _will_ kill you for this one, _Casey though fiercely, clenching her fists.

Casey took her seat, aligning her body away from Derek and greeting the other people at the table. As they all said their hellos, she was acutely aware of the maid of honor hanging on Derek to her right. He seemed uncomfortable, but he didn't make any move to stop her.

_So that's how it's going to be, huh, Derek? Well, two can play that game,_ Casey thought as she smiled at the man on her left. _Trust me, I've playing this game before. And won._

_"Yeah, there's this great party going on tonight. The Pi Kapps. I love those guys. They throw the _best_ parties," Casey's Residence Life-assigned roommate, Miriam, chattered happily, applying mascara to her already heavily-coated lashes. "Hey, do you think we'll meet anyone tonight? I mean, yeah, I was talking to Zack all week last week, but then he was all, 'Oh, I'm going to call you, Miri, we'll go out,' and then that bastard never called. So, screw him, whatever, I'm SOOO going to get laid tonight. Or, like, try."_

_"No, I think you will. You're SOOO pretty, Miri. Any guy would be lucky to have you." Miriam's companion, a slight blond girl from down the hall, nodded enthusiastically as Miriam continued to apply her makeup. "I just worry that I won't be able to meet anyone. I mean, we're not getting any younger here, you know?"_

_"I know what you mean," Miriam said, "I mean, it's like, university is for meeting people and hooking up and stuff, not just spending all your time _studying_." She shuddered and examined her face in the mirror._

_The blonde motioned towards Casey and stage-whispered, "Oh, you mean like _her_?" _

_"Oh, you can speak up, she doesn't care, do you, Case?" Miriam asked, twirling towards Casey. "You're just here to get a big, fancy degree, aren't you, Case? Not here to get a … what did you call it? An M-R-S?" Miriam cackled and went back to painting her face._

_Casey sat at her desk, twisting her pencil in her hands and striving to stay quiet. That was just one of many jabs that Miriam took at her, and Casey was resolute in her efforts to let the insults roll off her back._

It's not my fault that you're a dumb whore, _Casey thought angrily, _and that your only hope of succeeding in life is to trick some asshole into marrying you. Me? I'm earning my degree and getting the HELL out of here.

_Casey did earn her degree two years later, a semester earlier than planned. She received her diploma with a complete lack of emotion; there was no joy in her heart. It was just another box checked before she went into the next gray period in her life. There was no pomp, no circumstance, just a sheet of paper from the Registrar, the remainder of her scholarship money, and another box checked._

Casey stood with the other guests when Sam and Emma made their grand entrance and applauded lightly, sneaking furtive glances at Derek and smiling widely at the man on her left. She babbled to him through dinner, purposely ignoring the uncomfortable shifting and the glazed-over look in his eyes. She watched Emma and her father wistfully during the father-daughter dance, knowing that she would never have a sweet moment like that, not with her father and not with George. The music picked up, and people flocked to the dance floor to do the Chicken Dance. Casey felt the air shift to her right as the maid of honor dragged Derek out onto the dance floor. She watched as the maid of honor tried to get Derek to flap his arms like a chicken wings. She turned to the man on her left, slightly surprised that he was gone. She heard the music slow down, watching people as they started to form couples.

Casey saw Derek walk off the dance floor, leaving the maid of honor standing alone, her mouth open in shock. He walked over to Table #2 and positioned himself in front of Casey, forcing her to look at him. He didn't say a word. He simply extended his hand and ever-so-slightly motioned with his eyes. She couldn't answer. She simply placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her onto the dance floor.

As it had been all those years ago, their bodies fit together perfectly. The wide plains of his chest had grown wider and firmer with age, and his hands, always strong, were still able to find that one spot at the small of her back that made her tingle with anticipation. She nestled her cheek into his chest, breathing in his unique, musky scent of cologne, deodorant, and lavender. She heard his heart thumping in his chest, keeping perfect time with hers, and she finally found the words that had been evading her for so long.

_I'm home. _

**A/N: So, to add to the list, we now know that in the past, Casey really buckled down and studied her ass off when Derek left. In the present, Derek and Casey just reconnected on some level, and it was AWESOME.**


	6. Left

**A/N: And now for the surprise double-chapter. To recap, this is what we know: **

**1. Derek left Casey. We don't know why.  
2. When Derek left, he headed for Vancouver. Why, we don't know, but we can assume to see Sally.  
3. When Derek left, he kind of went off into the deep end in terms of morality.  
4. Casey is having trouble seeing Derek again, presumably because he left her without explanation.  
5. Casey either is short on cash or lives somewhere far enough away that it makes traveling back to Ontario expensive.  
6. Casey is not marrying Sam.****  
7. Derek and Casey obviously both still have feelings for each other, but are having trouble dealing with them because of whatever happened.****  
8. When Derek left, Casey really buckled down and studied her ass off.  
9. In the present, Derek and Casey have now reconnected on some level. It's awesome.  
**

Derek tightened his grip around Casey, breathing in her mango shampoo and delighting in her familiar form. She was softer now, a little less rigid, but her body still fit into his perfectly. He kept his eyes closed, shutting out the disapproving glares from his family and the shocked looks from his high school friends.

_I guess they would be a little surprised, eh?_ Derek mused, gently leading Casey in small, slow circles. _They only knew us as stepsiblings who fought all the time, not as the couple we once were._

They continued their slow trip around the dance floor, absentmindedly playing with the ends of Casey's hair with his right hand. His left hand completely encased her right, and he positioned them on his chest right above his heart. It was beating wildly, erratically, and he was sure that she could feel it. He could feel hers beating through the thin satin of her dress, and he was immediately comforted and turned on by it.

_It's just like old times, _he ruminated, stiffening up. _That is_, _before everything happened._

_"Derek, what are you doing here?" Sally asked, opening the door to her small, off-campus apartment._

_"Oh, I just came by to say hi," Derek answered, scratching the back of his shaggy head with his right hand. He had been driving for three days, only stopping for gas, food, and trysts with local girls in seedy motels. His eyes were red-rimmed and he smelled like smoke._

_"'Hi.' In Vancouver. From London." Disparagement crept into Sally's voice._

_"Kingston, actually. I left a few days ago."_

_"Kingston? Really? What were you doing there?"_

_"I was in school, at Queen's," Derek answered, beginning to get annoyed. _Are you going to invite me in or what?

_"Really? Wow, that's great, Derek!" Sally exclaimed. "But, what are you doing here? School's not done for another two weeks … or are you out already?"_

_"I left. And now I'm here. Saying hi." Derek set his mouth into a hard, straight line and crossed his arms across his chest. "Now, are you going to invite me in or just make me stand out here in the sun?"_

_"Oh, um"—Sally glanced over her shoulder into the apartment—"I guess you could come in for a little bit …"_

_"Thanks, Sally," Derek said, reaching to the left of the doorframe and picking up his duffel bag, "I'll be out of your way before you know it." He pushed past her into the foyer._

_"Well, if you need a place to stay, by all means," Sally muttered under her breath, closing the door and following him into the apartment._

_Derek stayed in Vancouver with Sally for more than a little bit. A displaced roommate, a few drinks, and a stroll down memory lane later, Derek had convinced Sally to "just let him crash in her bed for the night." One thing led to another, and before the two knew it, they were living in a tenuous arrangement in Sally's collegiate apartment, fighting constantly but always making up in the most gymnastic of ways. Derek was satiated, if not happy—he had a place to live, regular exercise, and someone to do the chores that he didn't feel like doing._

_Despite Sally's insistence, he didn't try to enroll in the University of British Columbia in the fall. Instead, he worked odd jobs that kept him out and about during the afternoons and evenings, only coming home to drink and relieve his ever-present tension. Their lives fell into a predictable routine of tempered hedonism._

_For several weeks in October, Derek worked as a bicycle courier. For another couple weeks in November, he worked as a janitor at UBC. In December, he played one of Santa's elves in the mall Christmas display. And in January, he got a part-time job as a lumber runner for a small construction company._

_That small construction company had just landed one of the biggest gigs in its short life: constructing the sets for a high-dollar Hollywood production. Part of Derek's job was checking the orders with the stage crew and set dressers to verify that the company could fill requisitions with the appropriate wood; in return, the crew gave him an all-access pass to the sets as they were being constructed._

_A little flicker of interest sparked in him. For several months, Derek meticulously checked order after order, ensuring that each piece of cheap pine was cut to specification and the Brazilian cherry floorboards were shined to perfection. By the time April rolled around, the production crews began bringing their equipment, setting up lighting, cameras, special effects machines, and the like. Derek's job was coming to an end._

_The sets were finished in May, exactly a year after Derek left Kingston. He woke up in a bad mood, completely immersed in tainted thoughts of Casey. He felt Sally stir next to him and he briefly thought about using her to suffocate his memories; he almost immediately dismissed the thought and rolled out of bed. _

But for what?_ he thought, groggily going to the kitchen and putting on a pot of coffee. _I no longer have a job. I no longer have a purpose. Screw this, I'm going out.

_Although it was only 10:00am, Derek found the closest off-sale and picked up a bottle of cheap whiskey. The cashier looked at him with pity and boredom on her weathered face; he ignored her and left the store._

_Derek meandered down to the water, bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag, and sat down on a park bench. For the next several hours, he sat, watching people go by and swigging from his bottle. No one paid him any mind, and for that, he was glad. He just wanted to wallow in his misery._

_Half a bottle down, Derek got a brilliant idea. He got up from the bench and stumbled back out into the city. By the time he got to his destination, he had sobered up slightly, just enough to really appreciate why he was there. He was intoxicated by the smell of the freshly-built sets, the sight of the industrial cameras. If he was going to be let go, he wanted to enjoy these final moments of being within reach of part of his former dreams._

_He sidled up to one of the cameras and peered through the lens, seeing nothing, but painting a picture with his mind's hazy eye. He imagined a spoiled princess that sauntered down the hand-crafted staircase and rejected suitor after suitor. He imagined that one man that came to the door that she didn't reject, but that rejected her. He imagined her parents begging him to stay and become part of the family, and the obstacles that ensued. Getting into his professional fantasy, he started shouting out stage directions and camera shots …_

_"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING ON MY SET?!" A bodiless voice bellowed from somewhere to Derek's left—_off-screen,_ he thought. He jumped off the camera stand and darted into the shadows._

_"I ASKED YOU A QUESTION, BOY. WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING ON MY SET?" The owner of the voice appeared in the form of a tall, skinny man with wildly curly hair and fire in his eyes._

_"Um, nothing, just … visiting," Derek answered meekly, slowly coming out of the shadows._

_"Just _visiting_? A set. For a movie. I should call security." The man made a motion for his pocket._

_"No! Please, don't, I'll just go," Derek answered, grabbing the man's arm. He let go when the man glared at Derek, but the man didn't begin to dial._

_"What are you doing in here?" the man asked again, a little more calmly this time. "You obviously knew where we were, so you must be part of the pre-production crew. Right?"_

_"Well, actually," Derek said, sticking his hands in his front pockets and rocking, "I used to work for the construction firm that did your sets."_

_"'Used to'?"_

_"Yeah, used to. I got laid off this morning."_

_"And you were going to come in and smash up the sets, huh?" The man began dialing again._

_"No! Don't!" Derek grabbed the man's arm again. And dropped it again. "No, I wasn't. I just wanted to pretend to be something I'm not, just for a little bit. Look, man, I just got laid off, I live with a woman that I don't really like that much anymore, and I lost the woman of my dreams a year ago today. Can you cut me a break and just let me go? Please?"_

_"Damn." The man gave Derek a sympathetic stare and put the phone back in his pocket. "Sounds like your life sucks. Why don't you tell me about it?"_

_The two of them sat on the set, swapping swigs from the whiskey bottle and swapping stories of their lives. They had a lot in common, despite their age differences—they both attended prestigious universities, Queen's and Notre Dame—they both had their hearts broken—Derek's by Casey and the man's by an Irish woman named Katie—and they both loved film from an early age. _

_The man turned out to be the director of the movie and was swinging by the set to check everything before filming began the next day. This was his second film—his first was a documentary about his Army brothers and their service in Iraq—and he was really looking to prove himself. He needed a directing assistant._

_"Look, Derek, I can offer you the job," the man—Jake—said, swigging the last bit of whiskey, "but it's not going to pay much. The hours are shitty, the work is taxing, and you probably won't even get credited. You'll probably have to wait tables or something to make ends meet. But hey, if you're willing to do it, I'll have you."_

_Derek agreed, and he spent the next year and a half splitting his time between waiting tables at posh restaurants on the coast and working various assistant jobs on the movie and television shows that came through Vancouver. His relationship with Sally dwindled to almost nothing, but it had ceased to matter—he was completely immersed in this new world._

_Derek received a job offer in Los Angeles that Christmas, on his brother's third birthday. He was asked to become a junior executive assistant at Columbia Pictures, and it was a job that he couldn't turn down. He would still be waiting tables at night, of course, but for him, it was worth it._

_He left Vancouver in January, packing up the now-decrepit Prince and driving south. South through Washington, south through Oregon, south through the vineyards of California and to the ubiquitous Hollywood. _

Derek felt Casey stiffen up, as if battling some memory of her own, and she began to pull away. Derek relaxed his body and held onto her tighter, willing her to stay until the song ended. They continued that way for several more minutes, imperceptibly fighting for control and fighting against their pasts. Finally, as the song came to a close, Derek couldn't stand it anymore. He had to be alone with her.

"Casey, meet me in the park. Thirty minutes."

He felt her nod faintly.

**A/N: Now, to add to the list, we know that Derek did, in fact, go to Vancouver to see Sally, and ended up living with her/dating her/using her for two and a half years. He got a job in Hollywood and left Canada/Sally/Casey behind. We also know that Derek still LOVES Casey, no matter what happened in the past. Which, by the way, we still don't know why he left in the first place (and no, we're not going to know that until the very end of the story)!**


	7. Meeting in the Park

**A/N: AHHHHHHH! Did you realize that it's been almost a MONTH since I've updated this story? And do you have any idea how painfully it's been rattling around inside my head? Seriously, I've been DYING to get this out to you, but life has gotten in the way just a little. It's been fun, though--the Austrians are here, and we took them on a family trip to Nevada, Arizona, and California (SUCH a pretty part of America). Anyway, I wrote this TONIGHT, and I couldn't wait my usual 24 hours to let it sit before editing and revealing it to the Dasey fans.** **I know there's a lot of mistakes (yuck), but if you point them out to me, I'll fix them at a later date. Just so you remember where we where ...**

_Flashback: "Casey, meet me in the park. Thirty minutes."_

_He felt her nod faintly._

********************

Casey stood on the side of the road, trembling and peering into the inky darkness. The trees cast a mysterious shadow on the starry night, and she was hesitant to leave the safety of the asphalt.

_What if he's not even there?_ she thought, wringing her hands and twisting the strap of her clutch around her wrist. _I'm alone out here. With no way home. I'm completely relying on Derek … what the hell was I thinking?_

Casey turned in small, nervous circles, looking for a car, a person, anyone or anything. She saw nothing. She glanced down at her watch, the delicate hands illuminated in the moonlight; it was exactly 30 minutes after her charged danced with Derek at the wedding reception. Yet, no Derek.

_I'll give him five minutes, _Casey thought grimly,_ and then I'm calling a cab. If I have reception out here._

Casey sat down, gingerly placing herself on the bumpy ground and smoothing her dress underneath her. She glanced around for a few moments, and, against her better judgment, allowed herself to lapse into a brief recollection:

_"Hi, I'm Greg."_

_Casey started out of her reverie and looked up at the tall, handsome man standing over her. He towered over her, smiling down and extending his hand. Startled, Casey wildly scrambled for her papers and gathered them into a messy pile._

_"I'm SO sorry! I normally don't do this … here … you know … right." Casey looked around lamely and cast her eyes downward._

_Greg started laughing. "And what, exactly, don't you normally do …" Greg looked at Casey expectantly._

_"Casey," she answered. "My name is Casey."_

_"Casey. What is it that you don't normally do, Casey?"_

_"Um …" Casey hesitated. _Do I really want to unload on a total stranger? Oh, what the hell, why not? _"I don't normally sit in the sunshine and enjoy Boston, Greg."_

_"And why not, Casey?"_

_"Because I pretty much study all the time, and when I'm not studying, I sit around regretting my past. Still interested in talking to me?"_

_"Actually, yes, Casey, I am. What about your past do you regret?"_

_Casey and Greg sat outside for hours, talking about her past and his past until the sun dipped behind the banks of the Charles River and the crew teams packed up and went home. She had completely abandoned her studies for the first time since she started at Harvard Law, and for the first time since Derek had left her all those years ago, she finally had an enjoyable day. Just one._

_One enjoyable day turned into one enjoyable evening, which turned into many more enjoyable evenings. Before she knew it, Casey was completely swept up in her relationship with Greg. She didn't see him often, since he was an agent with the Air Force Office of Special Investigations, but when she did see him, they had a blast._

_Almost year after Casey and Greg first met and six months after they officially began dating, Greg told her that he was being transferred to England. Without hesitation, Casey disenrolled from Harvard, packed her meager belongings, and followed Greg to a small village in the fens of England._

"Casey."

Casey whipped around, fear plastered on her face. When her eyes finally focused on the dark figure in front of her, she loudly exhaled a mixture of relief and exasperation.

"Der-EK! You scared the crap outta me! Where were you?"

"Uh, Casey, I'm only three minutes late, and I got caught up at the reception. I had to give a toast, you know? Being the best man and all? Because, as you know, I am the _best_ man." Derek flipped his collar and puffed up his chest with bravado.

"Yeah, yeah, you're the best man. Good for you. Now, are you going to help me up or what?" Casey raised her arms and looked at Derek huffily.

Derek sighed and put something on the ground. He grabbed her hands, pulling her to a standing position and tipping her forward into his chest. She wobbled, off-balance, and he wrapped his arms around her to steady her.

Casey immediately felt herself soften towards Derek, and she momentarily enjoyed the warmth spreading through and around her body. She closed her eyes, breathing him in again, then quickly shrugged him off and wrapped her shawl around her body. Her eyes were unwillingly cold when she addressed him.

"So what do you want from me?" she asked frostily.

Derek recoiled, shock and hurt spreading across his face. For a moment, Casey felt bad about addressing him like that. After all, he did ditch his best friend's wedding as soon as he could to come hang out with her in a dark, closed park outside of Kingston. On the other hand, he did walk out on her years ago, leaving her to a miserable existence.

_Mostly miserable,_ Casey mentally corrected herself.

"Case, I just wanted to talk to you. It's been almost ten years. I want to know what's going on in your life."

"And why's that, huh, Derek? So you can feel justified in walking away from me? So that you can take your big, successful life and shove it in the face of my puny and pathetic one?" Tears moistened the corners of Casey's eyes.

"Casey, no. Wow, you really have no idea what I've been up to, do you?"

Casey sniffed. "No, not really. I just heard that you moved to Los Angeles and started working for some movie big-wig in 2013. And that you're still there."

"Yeah, that's the gist of it," Derek said, taking her hand and rubbing his thumb rhythmically along the top of it. "And I heard that you were working in some huge law firm outside of London since you moved there in 2014. Am I right?"

Casey sniffed again. "Yeah, that's the gist of it." She flashed him a quick, tiny smile.

"So let's get caught up to now. It's 2019, Case. A lot's happened since we've seen each other, and I want to know what that is. Come inside with me?"

Casey nodded faintly, removing her hand from Derek's and picking up her handbag from the ground. She turned toward the gate, kicked off her heels, grabbed onto the rails, and looked at him expectantly. With a hand firmly on her behind, Derek gave a small push, and Casey was up and over the gate into the darkness.

**A/N: Didja like it? Casey and Derk have FINALLY started to talk a little, even if it's awkward. And Casey apparently had some American boyfriend in 2013/2014. And then moved to England ... cool, right? We know Derek was shacking up with Sally until he moved to LA, so it's good that Casey had a love interest for a while. Now the big question is, WHAT the heck have they really been doing? Keep reading to find out ... ;-)**


	8. Gopher

**A/N: Boo ... that last chapter kind of dragged, huh? This one will too, I'm afraid ... but I'm just so excited to get to the ending! So I'm breaking all of my rules and publishing my first drafts from now on, just to get you the story.**

**A few notes, though, things that I haven't really addressed:  
- I know nothing about the film industry. I pretty much just made it up and hoped that no one knew what I was talking about  
- For some of the places, I used Google Maps. Some of them I made up, and I've actually been to a few others. I won't really tell you which is which, but I bet you can tell by the level of detail in the descriptions.  
- This is the most important: THIS CHAPTER HAS SOME MATURE CONTENT IN TERMS OF LANGUAGE. I did, however, use asterisks instead of the full-on words. It's just that one of my characters in here is kind of a jerk, and he needed some more colorful language to convey that. If you think I should change the rating because of this chapter, let me know and I'll make my decision shortly.**

************  
**

"Here, Casey, take this," Derek said, sliding something through the gate to her.

Casey looked at him for a moment, a puzzled look on her face. Slowly, recognition dawned on her, and she grabbed the flattened box. She reconstructed it and reached back through the gate for the bottles of amber liquid that he was now handing her. When the carrier was full, Derek grabbed onto the gate and swung himself into the darkness.

He took the six-pack from her and they ambled along in silence. Derek glanced over at Casey, taking in her moonlit profile, and smiled to himself. _Man, it's been a long time since we've done this. What, nine or ten years now?_

"What are smiling about?" Casey stopped walking and put her hands on her hips.

Derek only grinned at her and kept walking. _If only she knew how happy I am right now, _he mused, whistling. _Maybe she would thaw a little._

They finally arrived at their spot, a covered picnic table and bench by a small lake. Lush, green banks circled the lake and a stray canoe floated by, moved by an unseen hand. Off to the left stood a community center, generally used for throwing parties and holding meetings; tonight, the entire park was theirs alone.

Derek sat on the picnic table, propping his feet on the bench below him. Wordlessly, he cracked open a beer and handed one to Casey. She accepted it and took a small, delicate sip, pursing her lips as the bitter liquid flowed into her mouth. Derek opened another beer, for himself this time, and they sat without speaking, listening to the springtime symphony of insects and animals.

After almost an hour, Derek cleared his throat and drew in a breath to speak.

"Don't," Casey whispered, her eyes locked on her beer bottle.

"Don't what, Casey?" Derek asked, genuinely surprised. He thought that he wouldn't be able to shut her up; instead, she didn't want to say a word.

"Don't ruin this moment. It's nice, you know, just sitting here with you. Not talking. Just being. Finally." Casey exhaled loudly and picked at the edge of the label on her bottle.

"But Casey," Derek protested, turning his body towards her, "I want to know what's going on with you. What you've been up to all these years."

"I'm not ready," Casey answered quietly. A firmness resonated in her voice, and Derek decided not to press the issue. "But if you want to tell me, I'm ready to listen."

"It's not much," Derek answered, shrugging his shoulders and taking a swig of his second drink. "But if you're interested, I'll tell you."

"I am."

"OK, then. You obviously knew I went to LA, right?"

"Right."

"Then I'll start there."

_Derek pulled up to a dingy two-bedroom house in San Pedro, California, 23 miles south of his place of employment in Culver City. He was late, as usual, not accounting for the extra time it would take to go anywhere because of the thick, incessant traffic in Los Angeles and the surrounding towns and suburbs. _I hope this place is still available, _he thought, putting the Prince into park. _I don't really have any other choice.

_A greasy man opened the door and stood in the doorway, staring at Derek as he made his was up the front walk. Derek extended his hand to the man in greeting; the man just looked at it until Derek dropped it back to his side._

_"Hi, I'm Derek Venturi. I'm here about the room for rent."_

_"You got a job?"_

_"Uh, yes, sir, I do. I work at"—_

_"I don't give a f*ck where you work, I just wanna know if I'm gonna get my rent. You smoke?"_

_"Uh, sometimes," Derek said, completely taken aback by the man's crude manner._

_"What?"_

_"Uh, just cigarettes …"_

_"Keep it at that. I don't want no cops up in here busting your punk-ass for weed, got it?"_

_"Got it," Derek muttered._

_"Drugs?"_

_"Pardon me?"_

_"Do you do drugs, dumbass. Again, I don't need any f*ckin' cops in my house."_

_"No, I don't do drugs."_

_"Good. Lady friend?"_

_"Nope."_

_"Man friend?"_

_"Hell no."_

_"You got a problem with men with man friends?"_

_"Uh …" Derek trailed off, trying to gauge where the conversation was turning._

_"I'm just sayin', be careful around here. Pretty boy like you, all the butt f*ckers are gonna wanna piece-a that."_

_"Um … thanks for the warning?" Derek's statement came out like a question, unsure of how to respond._

_"No problem. So do you want the place?"_

_"Can I see it first?"_

_"Will it make a difference?" the man asked, arching his thick, bushy eyebrows._

_"No, not really," Derek said, glancing around the neighborhood._

_"Good. Five hundred a month and the room is yours. Bathroom down the hall, shelf in the refrigerator, parking on the street. Questions?"_

_"Not really."_

_"Good. Now give me first and last months' rent, and I'll give you a key." The man turned and walked into the house, beckoning for Derek to follow him. "Come on, I don't have all f*cking day!"_

"Wow, Derek, that sounds … great," Casey said when Derek stopped to take a breath.

"Actually, it wasn't that bad. I mean, I had a place to live and someone to talk to. I wasn't there very often anyway; I worked 15-hour days most days."

"What did you do, exactly?"

"My job title was junior executive assistant," Derek answered, "but I was pretty much everyone's gopher boy."

"'Gopher boy'?" Casey asked, puzzled.

"You know, gopher. 'Go for this, Derek;' 'go for that, Derek,'" he mimicked, making a face and taking another swig of his beer.

"And what do you do now?"

"Pretty much the same thing."

"Pretty much?"

"OK, exactly the same thing. I haven't gotten a promotion in the seven years that I've been there. They keep telling me that I need more motivation, or I need to work harder, or I need a certification or a degree." Derek made another face.

"Do you ever want to go back to school and get any of those things?" Casey asked, taking a dainty sip of her drink.

"Yeah, I guess so." Derek shrugged his shoulders and stared out across the water. "It's just that, I've never really been into school, you know? And I'm making enough money to keep me in Ramen, which is really enough for me. _And with some fantastically slutty women from Long Beach, _Derek added silently.

"Is it really, though, Derek?" Casey asked, finally looking at him. Her eyes seared into his skin, and Derek momentarily glanced away. "Are you really happy?"

"I guess so," he said again, shifting his eyes to the ground. "Like I said, it keeps me in Ramen."

"I guess I'm just surprised at you, Derek," Casey said, staring at the singe of the moon on the water. "The guy I used to know had so much confidence and was convinced that he was going to take over and revolutionize the film industry. This guy, you, you're just some lackey."

"Wow, Case, harsh," Derek said, recoiling at her words. "I still have time to revolutionize the film world. I still have Jake Rademacher's number."

"But have you called it, Derek? Or have you just let it sit for seven years? Do you even know if he can still be reached there?"

Derek sat in silence. _She has some good points,_ he thought, _but she doesn't need to know that. Who does she think she is, judging me like this?_

**A/N: Woo hoo, we have more of an idea of what happened to Derek! Basically, he got caught in a job with awesome potential, but he's wasting it ... but for what? I guess we'll find out soon enough ...**


	9. She's a Pro

**A/N: And we're back, this time with an edited chapter. I just wasn't liking the way the chapters sounded without at least a day to think about it and a little bit of time to review. Y'all know how that goes. Anyway, in our last chapter, we found out what Derek was up to: a junior executive assistant at some studio in California. Casey, we're about to find out. Enjoy!**

"And what about you, Casey, huh? What have you been doing?"

Derek's voice was tinged with derision, and Casey felt her defenses go up. _Who does he think he is, judging me like this? He knows nothing about my life._

"_I_, Derek, work for a solicitor," Casey said primly, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"A solicitor? I thought you worked at a law firm outside of London."

"I do. A solicitor practices law. It's an English term."

"So are you a solicitor?"

Casey cringed a little before answering. "No, I'm not."

"Wait, so the big, bad Casey McDonald has been lying the entire time? Making us believe that you have this awesome life across the pond when you're really doing … what, exactly? What do you do?"

Casey lapsed into silence and looked down at the bench, ashamedly listening to Derek berate her. _Casey, you're being childish,_ she chided herself. _Just tell him what you do. It's not a big deal. _

_No, it _is_ a big deal!_ she argued silently. _Your life has been in the tubes since he left you. You know it, but no one else does … do you really want them to know that? Come on, you're Casey McDonald! You don't fail! And if you do, you hide it!_

_But … _her good angel started to argue.

_But nothing,_ her demon shot back. _No one knows what's been going on with you, really, and you're going to keep it that way._

_But you love him_, her good angel said. _You always have and you always will. He knows more about you than any other person. You have to trust him. Even if he's being a jerk right now. You _were_ kind of harsh._

Casey drew in a deep breath to steady herself. "Derek?"

"What?"

"I think I'm ready to talk."

_Casey walked up the front stairs to a small rowhouse, her arms loaded down with groceries. She was almost to the front door when one of the handles snapped and spilled the contents of the bag onto the ground. Sighing, Casey retrieved the runaway cans from the foot of the stairs and stacked them in her arms as high as she could. She fumbled for her key, jammed it into the lock, and tripped through the door. "Honey, I'm home!" she called._

_Silence._

_With another loud sigh, Casey walked into their kitchen, dropped the bags onto the counter, poured herself a glass of wine, and flopped onto the couch. This was becoming a habit, buying all the ingredients for dinner and then just drinking wine instead of eating a meal. There was no reason for her to cook—by the time Greg came home from work, he was too tired to eat anyway. Most of the time, he had already eaten, so even on the rare occasions that she did cook a meal, she still ate alone. Those were on the days that he was even in town._

_Seventy percent of the time, Greg was in one dangerous Middle Eastern country or another, so Casey was left to fend for herself. She was bored and anxious most days—she applied for a Common Professional Examination course at East Anglia, and she still had months left before they would tell her if she was accepted. It was too late in the year for her to find a real job—no professional workplaces hired right before Christmas—and she didn't have a work permit anyway. Yet._

I'm missing Gavin's birthday again this year,_ Casey mused. _Five. I can't believe he's so old! I wonder if he'll know who I am next time I see him.

_With Greg's help, Casey was able to get a job at the coffee shop on the Air Force base. It wasn't a dream job by any means, but it did give her something to do during the day. Plus, she made a few girlfriends, girlfriends that kept her sane when Greg was gone. _

_Casey received a letter in May of 2015, exactly five years after Derek stormed out of her life, from the University of East Anglia. It was a large, thick package, mailed first class post and stamped with the university's crest in the top left-hand corner. When Casey saw it, she snatched it up and excitedly started tearing at the seal. With trembling hands, she pulled out the top sheet of paper. Casey scanned the first line, blinked, and read it again._

_"Love, that's wonderful!" Greg said, his voice crackling over the line. He was in some remote location in some unknown country at the moment, and he had called her as soon as he got her email labeled "URGENT!!!!!!" "When do you start?"_

_"In August," Casey answered. "Will you be home by then?"_

_"Case, you know I can't tell you that," Greg said, reprimand in his voice. "I'll be back when I get back."_

_Casey sighed. "I know, honey, but I miss you so much! And I really wish you were here. I'm so bored and lonely without you!"_

_"I know, love, I'm sorry. Why don't you go visit your family for a little bit?"_

_"No," Casey growled. "I'm still mad at them."_

_"Still?" Greg asked._

_"Still. Besides, I can't afford the trip. I can barely afford the CPE class. Actually, I don't know if I'll be able to. Only if I save up. A lot. Every penny. That means no new clothes between now and August, and maybe a little after August"—_

_"Casey," Greg said, cutting her off, "you're rambling again. And don't worry about the cost. How much is it?"_

_"Um …" Casey scanned the page, "…oh. Wow. It's over 7,000 pounds a year." Casey felt tears welling up in her eyes. "Damn it, Greg, I can't afford that!"_

_"I can."_

_Casey felt her spirits rise. "What?"_

_"I can afford it, Casey. I'll pay for it. It's only for a year, and yeah, it's a lot, but we can take out a small loan, put it in my name, and we'll pay it off over the next few years._

_"Besides," Greg added, "after you finish the course, you'll be a lawyer, and you'll be rolling in the big bucks."_

_"Well, actually, Greg, I have to join an Inn and finish a one-year vocational course, and then I have to do something called pupilage … wait a second." Casey stopped herself. "You're really going to pay for my school?!"_

"Wait a second," Derek interrupted. "This guy paid for your school?"

"Yes, Derek, he did," Casey answered huffily. "He also pays for our house. Now can I finish my story?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever, Case. I'm just surprised at you. The Casey I knew would never have let a guy pay for her school … the Casey I knew would have figured it out on her own. Then again, the Casey I knew wouldn't have dropped out of _Harvard Law_ to jump the pond and chase some guy. So what do I know?"

**A/N: Interesting twist ... Casey moved in with the Air Force guy! It sounds serious, but is it? More to come ... thanks for reading!**


	10. MIA

**A/N: Before you get into this chapter, know that even though it's from Derek's POV, it's Casey-centric. Confused? Derek's story brought us up to the present two chapters ago, but we're still not entirely clear as to what happened to Casey, so I wanted to advance her storyline a little more. Instead of flashbacks, we have Casey telling Derek her story, and we get to see his reactions to what she's saying. It's a little different, but I think it works. Let me know if you like it like this!**

Derek sat back, chugging beer and listening to Casey finish her story. Kind of. He wasn't really listening, to be honest; he was staring out over the water and getting drunk, running over his past sins and wondering if he had a chance to atone for them.

_Think she'll go for it?_ Derek asked himself. _Think she'll want to have one last night with me before she goes back to England? Or, even better, think she'll want to come to LA with me? She can work as a lawyer there … I know she said she wasn't a solicitor, but she's got to have the experience … _

Derek's mind drifted: he imagined driving back to Los Angeles with Casey snuggled into him, the United States' countryside flying past their dirty—_no, clean, clean for Casey_—windows and unfolding in front of them. A new life together, one where they were both adults and no one could tell them what to do or what not to do, one where no one knew that they were stepsiblings, one in which they could be happy together. Truly happy.

And then he heard a word that snapped his attention back to what Casey was saying.

"Come again?" he asked her roughly.

"And then we got engaged," Casey repeated quietly, looking down.

Derek followed Casey's gaze onto her left ring finger. "B-b-b-but …" Derek stuttered, "there's nothing there!"

"I know, Derek," Casey whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. "I never got a ring."

"What? Why?"

"Because he never came back."

"Who?"

"Der-EK! Weren't you listening? Greg! Greg didn't come back!"

"Where did he go?"

Casey sighed loudly. "I don't know. He went TDY—you know, temporary duty—and he just never came home."

"OK, Casey, I'm confused. Start over. What happened?"

"Greg asked me to marry him right before he got on a plane to go somewhere. He was surrounded by a bunch of people—they were all wearing camouflage." Casey's voice drifted off, as if she were speaking through a cardboard tube. Hollow and far away.

"We were in a big warehouse, and he was going through a line. Well, he went through a line. And when he was done, he was sitting in this gated area with a bunch of other people. I stayed, even though we couldn't sit together. We could talk, of course, but what was he going to do, stand by the gate and talk to me the whole time he was in there? But I couldn't leave, I was just so sad.

"And then he talked to someone, who let him come out. This person came with him, but when he came over, the guy gave us a little privacy. And then Greg said to me"—Casey sniffled and wiped away a tear—"he said, 'Cassandra McDonald, I can't leave knowing that you won't be waiting for me when I return. Will you please marry me?'"

"'I can't leave knowing that you won't be waiting for me when I return'?" Derek mimicked. "Wow, this guy sounds like a real winner, Casey. Possessive much? And then he just never shows again? He's probably in Thailand getting his soul sucked out through his"—

"Der-EK! Are you serious? He's been gone for two years!" Casey started crying.

"Oh."

Derek listened to Casey's sobs with a heavy heart. _Wow, I'm a real jackass. I thought this just happened. I didn't know it was two years ago … maybe I should have listened a little more closely. _Derek looked at Casey, her shoulders heaving. The moonlight glistened on her hair, shimmering with every sob. _She really loved him. Not me. Him. _Derek sighed. _So much for LA. _

"OK, Casey, I'm sorry. Tell me what happened."

Casey sat shaking for a few more minutes without speaking. Finally, she wiped her eyes and continued in a soft voice:

"Greg asked me to marry him, and I said yes. We were really quiet about it, but then someone shouted out, 'Hey, the captain is engaged!' and everyone started clapping. I was really embarrassed, but really happy too, you know? He told me that we would go ring shopping when he came back—he didn't have one at the time. But then he never came back."

"Did he die?" Derek asked, scooting a little bit closer to her.

"I don't know," Casey whispered. "He went missing in action. I don't know where he was or where he is or if he's ever coming back. He could be locked in some cell right now being tortured, he could be hiding in the woods, he could be dead. I don't know!" Casey broke into a round of fresh sobs.

Derek gingerly put his arm around Casey's shoulders and patted her on the arm. She nestled her head into the hollow of his neck, sobbing, and Derek felt a sad little thrill go through him. _Oh, come on, Venturi, this is not the time. Casey's heart is breaking. Mine too. She's gone, man, and you blew it._

Casey's crying subsided after a few minutes, and she took a deep breath before speaking again. "The military doesn't know if he's dead. As far as they know, he's just missing. He's been gone for two years, Derek, and I don't know if he's coming back. But I can't just leave, you know? We're engaged. Or, we were engaged. I don't know. So I stayed. I couldn't really afford to finish my vocational stage, so I did the two-year program instead."

"Wait, what?" Derek asked, confused.

"My whole barrister thing. I was going to be a barrister. But after my course at East Anglia, I had to do my vocational stage. You know, I pick an Inn, I take these courses, blah blah blah. But I couldn't do the work and pay for food at the same time, so I kept my job at the coffee shop and took two years to finish my courses. I got some financial aid, but it wasn't enough to live off of."

"But I thought you worked for a solicitor?"

Casey sighed. "I do now, Derek. After I finished my courses and was eligible for pupilage, I looked around, but I wasn't really interested. I was sick of the coffee shop … really, I was sick of going on the base every day, looking at all those people. All those wives that had their husbands at home. Or, if they weren't home, that knew that they were alive. Me, I don't even know if Greg's alive. And I couldn't take it anymore. So I left.

"There's a small office in Cambridge that offered to hire me to do their secretarial work. They helped me get a work permit, claiming that my skills were 'professional and essential.'" Casey made air quotes with her fingers. "And then they hired me. I guess I should go back and finish what I started, but …" Casey shrugged her shoulders.

"Wow." Derek sat back and crossed his arms across his chest. "Sounds like you've had a rough time."

"Yeah."

They lapsed into silence again, Casey fiddling with her hands and Derek leaning back on his elbows. _She's really had a rough go of it, _Derek thought. _And here I was, thinking that my Casey would have made something of herself by now. Instead, she chased some dude across the Atlantic and hasn't finished school. Well, the schooling that she wanted to do, anyway. Neither one of us is where we'd like to be. Huh._

**A/N: So ... we're pretty much in the present! We know that Derek is a junior executive assistant in Hollywood and Casey is essentially a paralegal. Surviving, but barely. We're one chapter away from finding out why Derek left in the first place and an epilogue away from finishing the trilogy! Thanks for reading, and hang tight for the loose ends to get tied up!**


	11. Almost You

**A/N: Dudes, I am WIPED ... but I nearly promised DisforDasey that I would have this out by today, so here it is, spelling errors and all. Enjoy the final chapter (minus the epilogue) of the _Crazy Game_ trilogy!**

Casey's mind was oddly still as she sat next to Derek in the darkness. Finally, after years of not knowing what's been going on with Greg and not having a friend in the world to turn to, she found someone who was willing to listen without judgment. _Well, maybe without judgment. This _is_ Derek, after all. Gosh, I miss him. I _missed _him. It's been so long …_

"Hey, Derek," Casey said suddenly, breaking the silence, "why exactly did you leave Kingston all those year ago?"

"Are you kidding me, Casey? Like you don't know." Derek turned to face her, his eyes challenging.

"Uh, no, Derek, otherwise I wouldn't have asked."

"Casey."

"What?" Casey exploded. "All I know is that you came to my room, dumped me, and left. It was months before I knew that you weren't coming back, and years before I heard anything about your life! I was a mess, Derek. I still am." Casey turned her body to him, her chest rising violently with anger.

Derek clenched a fist. "Fine, Casey, I'll tell you. I was walking to class—Intro to Film, the only class I ever really went to—about two weeks before classes were finished for the year. I remember, I was hoping to run into you so that we could grab a coffee before class, and I saw you talking to some guy.

"You were waving your hands around, all crazy-like, and then you threw something on the ground. You started to stomp off, but this guy—he wore glasses, that's all I remember—grabbed your wrist, pulled you into him, and kissed you. Hard. In front of everyone."

Casey started to speak, but Derek cut her off and kept talking.

"I just turned and went home after that. Didn't go to class. I threw anything I could grab into suitcases and boxes and left. Sam was shocked—he had no idea what was going on. I just told him that I was leaving and that there was nothing he could do about it. And then I went to see you.

"And that was it. I drove away, begging you to call me, but you never did. I promised myself that if I heard from you by the first night, then I'd go back. But you never called me. So I kept going.

"It wasn't pretty, Case. I haven't told you everything, and I probably never will."

"Yeah, please don't," Casey said quietly. "I can only imagine."

"Yeah."

Casey sat for a minute in silence, Derek's tortured, drunken breathing beside her. _What the hell is he talking about? There was no other guy. It was always him. Always about him. Doesn't he know how much I love him? Loved. Love. I don't know … OH! _Finally, she spoke:

"That guy you saw me kiss? His name was Allan."

"Casey"—

"Allan Butterman."

Derek's jaw dropped a little in the moonlight, and Casey could see the light go on above his head. "The actor?"

"Yep."

"So you two were just"—

"Acting? Yeah. Remember how I told you about that play that I was in?"

"Uh …"

"Der-EK! See, you never listened to me anyway. I was the female lead in one of the spring student plays. We were rehearsing the scene in which the male lead—Allan's character—reveals to my character that he had an affair with some other girl."

"So you"—

"Threw his things on the ground and stomped off? Yes. And then he"—

"Tried to kiss you to win you back," Derek finished, his gaze focused on some unseen point across the lake again. "So after all these years"—

"You dumped me on a misunderstanding. And you didn't even let me explain."

"I was too mad!" Derek exclaimed, turning his gaze back to her. "Do you have any idea how humiliated I was?"

"Do you have any idea how destroyed _I_ was?" Casey shot back. "Derek, you wanna know why I didn't call you? Because I was catatonic for three days. By the time I finally snapped out of it, I came to the realization that you wanted nothing to do with me. Nothing. So I did nothing. I finished my classes—barely, by the way—and spent my summer hardly moving. I gave up my role in that play"—

"Whoa, you gave up your role?"

"Yeah, I did," Casey said, rubbing her eyes. "I wasn't in any state to perform. And it's too bad, too, because that play got picked up by the Fringe Festival, and that's how Allan got to be as famous as he is now. I could have been part of that.

"Instead, now, I'm a barely professional, almost house-spouse to a man that I haven't seen in over two years. One which I can't leave, because as far as I know, he's alive and we're _engaged_. I can't leave that. Who knows, he may be locked up in some cell somewhere, getting threatened by a human meat grinder daily, holding onto life only by the thin thread of hope that I'm still waiting for him. And then he comes back and what, I'm gone? No. I can't do that and I won't do that.

"And the worst part is that you _don't get_ it. You don't get that it's you. It's always been you. Even though I love Greg—and I do—it will never be the same with him as it was with you."

"Wow," Derek said, sucking in a deep breath. He held it for a second, then exhaled. "God, Casey, I'm so sorry about this. This is all my fault. If I had just _listened_ for a second"—

"Whatever, Derek, it's over," Casey muttered.

"No, listen to me. It's always been you for me too. I may have been with Sally"—

"You were with _Sally_?" Casey screeched.

"Listen to me. Yes, I was with Sally, for a long time after I left Kingston. But I wasn't happy. I was always thinking about you, comparing her to you, wishing you were with me. Because Casey, after all the crap we've put each other through, after all of the misunderstandings and the fights, I love you. I always have and I always will."

Casey and Derek both lapsed into silence, consumed with their own thoughts. Then Casey spoke:

"So what now, Derek?"

"I don't know, Case. I do know that I'm not going to make some grand gesture and kiss you here as the sun comes up." Derek gestured to the sun rising over the lake. "I may be a jerk, but I'm not that kind of jerk. You're spoken for, and I respect that. The question is, what are _you_ going to do?"

"I guess I'm going back to England," Casey said, her eyes filling with tears.

"Yeah, I guess you are," Derek said sadly. "Come on, let's go home," he said as he got up and walked to the car.

"But I already am," Casey whispered, her words drifting away on the wind.

**A/N: Aww ... all that UST! Thank goodness for epilogues!**


	12. Epilogue

**A/N: Well, folks, aside from a short spin-off, the _Crazy Game _series is officially over! I hope you enjoyed it--I sure enjoyed writing it! Enjoy the epilogue ... it's full of the feel-good Dasey moments that all of us in this fandom live for :-)**

Casey received a visit from Greg's commander three days after she arrived back in England. They found him, the commander had said, only identifiable by his lower jaw. Greg, sadly, had been killed in action, but had died with honor in fighting for the United States of America. In a complete mess, Casey called Derek, sobbing and begging for a place to stay. She was on a plane the next morning.

Greg, thankfully, had provided well for Casey through his will, leaving her the entirety of his life insurance minus the cost of his funeral. After she buried him and the remainder of her former life, she was left with nearly $400,000 and a house in Goldsboro, North Carolina. She sold the house for profit and used some of the proceeds to buy a small beachside condo for her and Derek.

They had to expand a few years later: a baby boy was on the way. Derek agreed to name him Gregory; after all, the man did take care of his wife during a very dark time in her life, put her through law school twice, and gave them their first home together. Gregory John Venturi was the boy's name.

George and Nora eventually learned to tolerate the union. They didn't like it, of course, and they hated it when Gavin told the kids at school that his brother and sister were married, but most of his classmates knew the back story. The real challenge came when he started at Thompson in the autumn.

Edwin and Katie had a child a month before Gregory was born, a little girl that they named Molly. Katie never figured out where the name came from, and Edwin never told her. Both Molly and Gregory were repeatedly warned to never, ever date each other.

Marti finished medical school a year after Gregory and Molly were born, and decided to become a pediatrician. She and Liam stayed friends, despite the fact that they broke up a few weeks after Sam and Emma's wedding.

Lizzie never accepted Casey and Derek, and shunned Edwin and Katie for siding with her older siblings. She moved to Edmonton and became a softball coach.

Oh, and Derek? Quit his job as Chief Gopher, called Jake, and moved on with his career. He has now produced seven films, written three, and is credited in several roles as an actor. Casey still acts as his lawyer.

And that's living life with Derek.


End file.
